Mrs. Tremaine.
We are not all such miserable creatures as you imagine. Treat us
decently well, and we can stand a good deal, without whining like
men--poor persecuted saints!
Denham.
It is quite impossible to treat you well in this "imperfect
dispensation." Bah! let us talk of something else.
(_Enter Mrs. Denham, dressed to go out._)
Mrs. Denham.
This letter has come for you, Blanche, sent on from your house.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Thanks so much. I have been expecting it. Will you excuse me?
(_Opens letter and reads._)
Mrs. Denham.
I am sorry to interrupt you, Arthur, but I am just going out. Can
you give me a cheque?
Denham.
Certainly. But first look at this.
Mrs. Denham.
(_looks at the picture_) Better, I think.
Denham.
Eyes too big now?
Mrs. Denham.
No, not now. Let me have the cheque, and I will go.
(_Denham crosses in front of easel to table, takes cheque book from
a drawer in the table, and writes. Mrs. Tremaine rises and crosses
C._)
Denham.
Is that all you have to say?
Mrs. Denham.
Oh, my opinion is of no value! I think you have improved; but, you
know, I like your ideal work best.
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